Korg’s MS range contains some bona fide classics — and is much more extensive than you might imagine...
In late 1977 Korg’s senior engineer Fumio Mieda led a plan to create a series of affordable synthesizers that would help make or break the company. Working late nights and even sleeping in the office to keep the wheels turning, the project was completed by the end of the Spring of 1978. In the 46 years since their release, the products in this series have had a significant impact via a broad and surprising array of styles, and one particular family member has become so desirable that Korg have been producing it again since 2014.
Before The MS
As with most things Korg, the company’s inception is unusual. Founder Tsutomu Katoh was not musical and didn’t have particular plans to start a music company, but his keen eye for business and willingness to take risks meant that after a fateful encounter, the company was born.
Having served on a submarine during World War II, Katoh subsequently scraped a living with whatever he could get his hands on: car parts, electrical wiring, selling newspapers and in construction. It was whilst he was doing the latter in the 1950s that he was offered a role managing a club, the Minx, in the Kabukicho area of Shinjuku in Tokyo. This role resulted in Katoh being directly in contact with scores of musicians who passed through his club and one particular musician, Tadashi Osanai, approached him with a proposal. Osanai was an accordionist and had discovered the Wurtlizer Sideman rhythm machine, which allowed musicians like himself to carry around a box that provided drums and percussion without needing to hire another player. Osanai believed he could make a better version of the Sideman and so asked Katoh to finance the project. Katoh agreed and in 1963 they set up shop next to the Keio railway line. As their initials were also ‘K’ and ‘O’, the name was begging to be used, which is why the company were originally called ‘Keio Gijutsu Kenkyujo’ (‘Keio Research Institute’ in English).
After some development, Osanai’s design was ready and it was dubbed the ‘DA‑20 Doncamatic Auto Rhythm Machine’, with the name being partly an onomatopoeic reference to the sound of the product; don‑ca, don‑ca.
In the late ’60s, after a series of these rhythm machines, Katoh was approached by another individual with an idea that needed funding. Fumio Mieda already had a track record having invented the legendary Uni‑Vibe pedal and also having worked for Teisco. This, perhaps, made the decision easier to make when Mieda introduced Katoh to his idea to create a new kind of electronic organ. The resulting product was called ‘Prototype 1’ or ‘First Prototype’ and, whilst it wasn’t called a synthesizer at the time, it contained a monophonic section that was exactly that.
A second keyboard instrument was then developed and it was called the Keio Organ. For reasons that aren’t quite clear, a portmanteau of Keio and L’Orgue (French for ‘the organ’) was used and the instrument was dubbed ‘Korgue’. Apparently, due to a typo on some printed circuit boards, this was changed to ‘Korg’ to match the mistake, rather than get them reprinted! They then used this name for their products before eventually changing the company name itself from Keio to Korg in the 1980s. For simplicity, I’ll refer to them as Korg from here on in.
Korg’s first production synthesizer was the miniKORG 700 in 1973, and there then followed a prolific five years where a flurry of synths were fired out of their doors; the miniKORG 700S, maxiKORG 800‑DV, 900‑PS, SB‑100, PE‑1000, PE‑2000, 770, M500, PS‑3100, PS‑3200 and PS‑3300.
By late 1977, Korg were weighing up where to go next and the decision was made to produce an affordable series of compact instruments, with the hope being to tap into the market of potential new synthesizer users. This was, of course, the MS series.
The Arrival
Announced with the strapline ‘The Second Generation of Korg Synthesizers’, the range contained precisely three of these. The most affordable member of the trio was the monophonic synthesizer (or MS)‑10. It basically has one of everything: one oscillator, one filter, one amp, one envelope and one LFO. What makes it more interesting than the simple synthesizer it initially appears to be is that there’s a patch panel where the signal path can be reconfigured or interrupted, or where external synthesizers or equipment can be interfaced with the MS‑10. Like Korg’s earlier PS range, the panel was cleverly placed on the right so that the patch cables wouldn’t be in the way of the associated knobs that were on the left.
This instrument was an ideal first synthesizer for fledgling musicians and it was the first synth that Detroit pioneer Juan Atkins owned as a teenager after his grandmother bought him one for Christmas. With its hands‑on panel, Atkins taught himself to create every drum sound he could think of, as well as all manner of new effects. His early demos with the MS‑10 helped him build a reputation and by 1980, he’d joined forces with Rik Davis to form Cybotron, whose influential electro music was fundamental to the evolution of techno.
The second of the three synthesizers in the series proved to be in the Goldilocks zone in terms of price and functionality. The MS‑20 has slowly but surely established itself as one of Korg’s most‑loved synths, which is evidenced by the fact that there have been nearly a dozen official versions of it, countless clones and emulations and, at the time of writing, you can still go out and buy a brand‑new MS‑20, 46 years after it was first released!
The MS‑20 has slowly but surely established itself as one of Korg’s most‑loved synths...
The MS‑20 essentially has twice the functionality of the MS‑10: two oscillators, two resonant filters, two amplifiers (the second is in the patch panel), two envelopes, one LFO and a ring modulator. It also sports a more sophisticated patch panel with a dedicated external signal processing section.
A defining part of the MS sound is the filters. On the MS‑10 and original MkI MS‑20, these were the ‘KORG 35’ (aka ‘Type 35’) design that had been introduced with the PS series the year before. Requiring just a handful of transistors and resistors, this was an affordable and compact solution, but it certainly didn’t have a cheap sound. The KORG 35’s resonance (or ‘peak’) is very extreme and breaks up and distorts in a fantastic way, resulting in a screaming and growling quality. When two are combined in series and configured as resonant high‑pass and resonant low‑pass (as they are on the MS‑20), all manner of sounds are possible from guttural filth, guitar‑like tones, strangely human formants, clangs, bells, womps, belches, squelches and more. This dual HP/LP filter concept was a signature part of the ’70s Korg sound, going right back to their earliest prototypes.
The MS‑20 also has a clangourous ring modulator tucked into the second oscillator wave selector; the pulse square waves of the two oscillators run into it, regardless of which wave is being used for audio from VCO 1. The patch panel on the right contains some quite sophisticated options, such as a discrete CV input for VCO 2, inverted outputs from the envelope generators, dual wave outputs from the LFO (which could be manually waveshaped), a completely open‑ended sample and hold circuit and modulation inputs for the oscillators, filters and amps. The mod wheel and trigger switch on the left of the instrument are not connected to anything by default, which might seem counterintuitive, but the pay off is that their outputs are also found in the patch panel where they can be routed to a variety of destinations.
Look at that alignment! Left to right: MS‑10, MS‑50 and MS‑20.
Finally, the external signal processor was really the icing on the cake. It can be used to overdrive and filter signals, but it can also convert monophonic audio into control voltages, envelopes and triggers that can be used to play the MS‑20 from an instrument or microphone. The thinking was that it would entice guitarists who could use it as an extended effects box for their guitar, but the reality was that it was quite quirky and behaved strangely. This, of course, made it ideal for experimentation.
All this added up to make the MS‑20 quite unlike any synth on the market, certainly at the price. As wonderful as they are, the revered Minimoogs and ARP Odysseys of the day couldn’t make anything like the range of sounds possible on the MS‑20, despite the Korg being much cheaper and more compact.
The final synthesizer in the MS series, the MS‑50 was a keyboardless expander for the MS‑10 or MS‑20. Unlike its siblings, this synthesizer has no pre‑wired signal path. Instead, every single part of the synthesizer has jack sockets for inputs and outputs, making it completely open‑ended. Given the more specialist nature of the MS‑50, fewer were made and they remain a prized possession for the MS aficionado.
The European Connection
Some 9000km away from the factory in which they were built, the MS‑20 became the synthesizer of choice for German new wave musicians, particularly when paired with the MS series analogue step sequencer, the SQ‑10.
In 1979, one such musician, Kurt Dahlke, took the name ‘Pyrolator’ and released his first album Inland. Featuring MS‑20 and SQ‑10 with an organ and some Italian synths, Dahlke explored the experimental and dystopian possibilities of these (then) new instruments.
Some sequencers have inspired entire genres of music. The SQ‑10 is one of them.
Dahlke had also originally been a member of Deutsch Amerikanische Freunschaft (DAF) but had left the group early on. Guitarist Wolfgang Spelmans, bass guitarist Michael Kemner and Dahlke’s replacement, Chrislo Haas, also subsequently left the group and the only consistent members, Gabi Delgado (vocals) and Robert Görl (drums and electronics) found themselves as a duo by late 1980. Rather than recruit new members, they decided to record their third album (Alles Ist Gut) as a pair. Teaming up with producer Conny Plank, the band took to the studio with a minimal approach of synthesizer, sequencer, drums and vocals. Plank processed the sound of the synthesizers by playing them back through amps and speakers and miking them up, adding to the raw energy of the recording and finding a perfect match for Görl’s pounding drums and Delgado’s provocative vocals. Along with the use of Plank’s ARP Odyssey and Sequencer, the duo were ongoing users of their MS‑20 and SQ‑10 sequencer.
Another former member of DAF also had an enduring relationship with the Korg MS series. Chrislo Haas had teamed up with fellow German Beate Bartel to record as CHBB in 1981, and photos of their studio at the time reveal that the MS series was pivotal to their sound with them, at one time, owning four MS‑20s, two SQ‑10 sequencers and an MS‑50 expander. That same year, the duo met Krishna Goineau, who was only 17 at the time. The three formed the trio Liaisons Dangereuses, with Haas and Bartel’s driving, sequenced electronics providing the background to Goineau’s chanted vocals. Whilst they only made one album as a trio, they helped pioneer ‘Electronic Body Music’ and their song ‘Los Niños Del Parque’ remains a cult classic. The 24 steps of the SQ‑10 sequencer give the song its unusual six‑beat groove, with the MS synthesizers providing the sounds.
Meanwhile, over the border in France, another young duo were making use of MS synthesizers to help define their sound. Daniel Favre (aka ‘Spatsz’) and Mona Soyoc founded KaS Product in 1980 and were part of the cold wave scene of the late ’70s and early ’80s. Their best‑known song ‘Never Come Back’ features frantic Korg MS‑20 and Moog Prodigy with drum machine and profanity‑laced vocals. The video for the song shows close‑ups of the unmistakable plastic side panels of the Korg MS series as the duo perform in an abandoned warehouse.
Whilst you could argue that these acts used the MS products because that’s what was available to them, the unmistakable sound of the MS instruments, particularly the filters, meant that they informed the sound of the genres as much as the artists. Laden with knobs, wires, blinking red LEDs and phosphorescent voltmeters, the punky but sci‑fi‑black panels of the Korgs also looked very much the part next to the denim, leather and barnets of the bands that used them.
Talk To Me
Maybe the most distinctive member of the MS series is the VC‑10 vocoder. Housed in the same basic chassis as the MS‑10, it sports a glowing VU and Korg‑branded gooseneck microphone. This vocoder may have also been the first with a built‑in keyboard. Combined with internal tone generators and the ready‑to‑go mic, it is very quick and convenient to use.
The VC‑10 Vocoder, much beloved of Ryuichi Sakamoto.
At a similar time to recording Yellow Magic Orchestra’s debut album, Ryuichi Sakamoto was working on his debut solo album Thousand Knives in 1978. Sakamoto personally thanked Korg for their “great cooperation” in the credits of this album and the recording included their PS‑3100, SQ‑10 and VC‑10. The latter has prominent use in the opening of the title track as Sakamoto’s yearning vocoded a capella voice introduces both the song and album.
Fellow countryman Isao Tomita also made use of the VC‑10 (credited as “Korg Vocoder”) on his “musical fantasy of science fiction” album Bermuda Triangle in 1979. In fact, the final sounds on the recording are strange whispers running through the VC‑10 as the album’s journey through vast, deep sonic textures resolves by diminishing back towards silence.
As new genres emerged, the old MS synthesizers proved ideal instruments for the job.
The End Of The Beginning
By 1983 Korg had moved onto new technology and so the MS series was discontinued, but musicians were certainly not done using them. In fact, if anything, the popularity grew after the series was deleted. As new genres emerged, the old MS synthesizers proved ideal instruments for the job and they began cropping up again.
In 1997 William Orbit was brought in to produce Madonna’s Ray Of Light album and the MS‑20 proved an essential part of the production. As well as providing straight synthesizer sounds, the instrument was perfectly suited for creating effects and textures such as those heard throughout ‘The Power Of Goodbye’. Orbit has also stated that numerous sounds that people believe to be guitar on the album are actually the MS‑20.
One of the best‑known uses of the MS‑20 was by Quentin Dupieux (aka Mr Oizo) on his 1999 number one single ‘Flat Beat’.
One of the best‑known uses of the MS‑20 was by Quentin Dupieux (aka Mr Oizo) on his 1999 number one single ‘Flat Beat’. Sampling his MS‑20 into an Akai S1000, Dupieux then sequenced it into an infectious groove with a demo version of Cakewalk Express! Being the soundtrack of a memorable TV commercial featuring a distinctive yellow puppet (who also appeared in the music video) did the song no harm whatsoever and helped lift it to the top of the charts in several countries.
Another song to be helped by being the soundtrack for an advertising campaign was ‘Bohemian Like You’ by the Dandy Warhols. Originally released in 2000, it was re‑released in 2001 after being used by a telecommunications company, whereupon it flew up the charts across Europe in particular. Without a bass guitarist, the band’s keyboard player Zia McCabe provides the bottom end with her Korg MS‑20. In the video for the song, McCabe can be seen playing the MS‑20 during the karaoke bar scenes.
For those willing to dive into the possibilities of the external signal processor section, the audio you give it can be transformed into something unexpected. This proved the ideal tool for Goldfrapp on their song ‘Lovely Head’ in 2000. The peculiar, theremin‑like sound heard in the song was actually produced by Will Gregory processing Alison Goldfrapp’s voice through the ESP of his MS‑20.
Another German musician with a connection to the MS‑20 is Felix Kubin, who went as far as to compose a work for an orchestra of 20 MS‑20s called ‘A Choir of Wires’! Supergroup Atoms For Peace were also fans of the MS‑20 in more recent years, with Nigel Godrich using the instrument live and in the studio.
Looking back at the decades we can see that the MS series was relevant at the time of its release, but that it became relevant again and again in different contexts as musical fashions changed. The fact that so many big names and genre‑defining artists have turned to its family members tells us that the MS series is unquestionably classic.
Footwork & Black Boxes
The MS range originally contained nine main products, and perhaps the least well‑known of the family are the MS‑01, MS‑02, MS‑03 and MS‑04. Two of these four units look like Korg branded wah‑wah pedals, but are control voltage pedals that interface with their synth siblings.
The MS‑01 has two functions with associated jack sockets on the respective sides of the pedal; one function is a control voltage, either positive or negative, and the other side utilises the pedal as an attenuator. The MS‑04 takes things further with a built‑in LFO (with a sample and hold function) and a CV bend, combinations of which are available from two outputs on the opposite side. In fact, these weren’t the only pedals that Korg made in these branded chassis; there were also the five ‘FK’ pedals that included everything from their ‘traveler’ filters, phaser/wah/double wah, dual volume controls, signal crossfading and more. Quite the offering for those with keen toesies! In fact, Fumio Mieda had cut his teeth building effects pedals (including the legendary Uni‑Vibe), so it was probably quite a natural choice to produce these accessories.
With the two MS pedals, all sorts of performance related control could be achieved whilst keeping the players hands free; volume swells, filter sweeps, frequency modulation, glissandi, you name it. So, given the usefulness of these pedals, it’s perhaps surprising that relatively few of them seem to have been made and fewer still have survived the decades. Maybe learning synthesis was challenging enough, without needing to involve all four limbs!
By contrast, the MS‑02 is a rectangular block that seems perplexing, with terminology like ‘log amp’, ‘antilog amp’, ‘junctions’, ‘Vth = 2.5V’ and ‘0V‑15V’, but it was actually well thought through and very useful. Inspired by the way that an attenuator on an electrical measuring instrument worked, Korg had come up with their own way of controlling the frequency of oscillators across many octaves, which they found made the tuning more accurate and more stable. This standard was dubbed ‘Hertz per Volt’ and was abbreviated as Hz/V. This was different to the ‘Volts‑per‑octave’ (V/oct) standard used by most other manufacturers because that required exponential conversion, whilst this new approach used voltages that corresponded to exponential frequency changes. Put simply, if you plugged a V/oct device into a Hz/V device (or vice versa), this would result in a strange temperament and the notes would get further and further out of tune as the player moved up and down the keyboard. Aside from experimental music, this generally wasn’t very useful and so the MS‑02 converted either to the other so that equipment from different manufacturers could play nicely.
However, this wasn’t the only thing required to get Korgs to sing along with Rolands, ARPs or Oberheims; there are two ways to fire off envelope generators on a synthesizer, which are crucial to being able to make any sound (or at least, controllable sound). The first way is a ‘voltage trigger’ where a positive pulse sets the envelope running, with the key‑on time defining the gate. The other is essentially the opposite, dropping from a positive voltage down to zero, at which point the envelope generator starts. If the wrong method is used, pressing a key results in silence, whilst releasing a key results in a constant drone. The solution? The trigger processor section found in the MS‑02, which flips one to the other. Prior to MIDI, these were the lengths manufacturers had to go to essentially help integrate their products with those made by rivals, but it shows that they already knew that it was important.
The MS‑03 is another metal slab with an esoteric purpose. Like the ESP of the MS‑20, it converts audio signals into voltages that can control a synthesizer. In essence, this allowed the user to play a synthesizer from a microphone, guitar, saxophone, kazoo or anything you fancied running into it. Like the MS‑02, it had cross‑brand‑friendly outputs with Hz/V, V/oct, S‑trig and V‑trig. It also had footswitch inputs so that a player could latch a note and have it hold until it was cancelled, plus an envelope was generated from the incoming signal that could be sent on to the synthesizer to shape the sound. This kind of circuit is called an ‘envelope follower’ and allows the sonic characteristic of one instrument to be applied to another.
A Tale Of Giants
One of Korg’s many unique stories is that of their synthesizer studio and school that was established in Tokyo around the time that the MS series was completed. The idea was to offer classes teaching synthesis to beginners, with the ulterior motive probably being to sell some more synths in the process! As there were no interactive whiteboards in the late ’70s, Korg took a rather novel approach and made a few giant MS‑20s for the teacher to use at the front of the class, hence they are known as the ‘Blackboard’ versions.
At the time of writing, only one example is known to still exist and it belongs to Don Muro. Don was a part‑time clinician and performing artist for Univox (the US distributor for Korg) in the 1980s and early ’90s and was gifted the giant synth as a thank you for his work on the M1, for which he produced a factory demo song (it’s ‘SONG 4 Ms. Muro’ if you want to track it down in your M1).
Prior to that, it had lived in a portable room that was set up at trade shows to allow for sound separation on the noisy show floors, although the giant MS‑20 never travelled with the room.
Korg also later made 30 slightly smaller (but still giant) ‘Export’ versions with yellow legending that were sent to local offices and distributors around the world. Like the earlier version, these weren’t just props, but fully functioning MS‑20s! In fact, the very same circuit boards were inside, just with long cables stretching to fit the giant chassis, and disks were created to artificially increase the size of the knobs.
Da Funk?
Common knowledge can have its uses, but it can also be wrong. For example, for decades it was ‘known’ that the bass line to Michael Jackson’s ‘Thriller’ was played on a Minimoog. That was until recently when Anthony Marinelli and Greg Phillinganes revealed that it was actually an ARP 2600. Likewise, it’s currently ‘known’ that the main riff to Daft Punk’s ‘Da Funk’ was performed with a Korg MS‑20. Now, to be fair, it sounds absolutely like a Korg MS‑20 and the instrument can perfectly recreate it, but the band have never confirmed whether it was and to avoid another, erm, thriller, I’ve not included it in the main article.